Transformation
by eleroo02
Summary: A series of vignettes showing the transformation of Saffiya to Djaq.
1. Days by the Sea

Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood

A/N: Here is the first chapter in the transformation of Saffiya to Djaq. I know it's taken awhile, and this is a short chapter, but I've found this a bit difficult to write. I haven't seen an episode in forever (yay for season 2 starting in the US soon) so I'm trying to rely on memory of current Djaq plus think of her as a child (as Saffiya) when we're all different and so much more innocent in our early years. There's a bit more Djaq in this than Saffiya but I really wanted the audience to get a feel for his character and Saffiya's relationship with him. So I hope you enjoy, and reviews are appreciated as always.

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"Hurry up, Saffi!"

"I'm coming, wait up for me," came the not-quite yell. Lifting her skirt for better movement, Saffiya hurried across the courtyard to where her brother was waiting, hands on his hip in an impatient stance. When the two met up, any passerby would have thought there was a single child in front of a mirror, for the siblings were the male and female version of the same face. The inseparable twins shared warm brown eyes flecked with green that peeked out of golden skin with lips consistently curved upwards in a smile.

And on a fine, sunny day like today, the brother and sister were often seen running through the house of Bassam al-Saiid. Their father, Mahmoud, worked for Bassam as an advisor and teacher to Bassam's only son, Abid. Abid was roughly five years older than the twins, and their father's often talked about a possible union between Abid and Saffiya for the two were close, with Abid an honorary older brother.

But today he was stuck in meetings with his father over the managing of the estate and the twins were left to their own devices. So Djaq had announced to his sister the night before that they would spend the day at the sea and have a grand adventure to which Saffiya willingly agreed. The little explorers set out with their nurse and a guard and a few hours later found them at the seaside. The nurse and the guard settled themselves into a makeshift camp of sorts while Djaq, the braver of the two, ran off with a shout of glee, leaving his little sister behind him as she tried to keep up with his slightly longer strides.

"Djaq!" she called, fearing he would leave her behind. By now, they at least a league away from their watchers, and Saffiya couldn't stifle her apprehension. She wasn't used to being alone, and had been afraid of such ever since she was little. The dark didn't scare her so much as being alone in the dark. But she needn't worry as her big brother stopped and waited, as always, for her to catch up. She ran up to him and grabbed his shirttails, confident he couldn't leave her behind the next time he decided to just run off.

With a sigh, Djaq patiently removed her hand from his clothing and placed it in his own small fist. "Saffi, why can't you ever keep up? If you don't try harder, I really will leave you behind one of these days."

"No, you're lying. You'll always wait for me," she exclaimed brightly, using the smile that always got her whatever she wanted. But after a few moments anxiety, her smile dimmed. "Won't you?"

"Yes, sister. You're stuck with me." He replied. "I'll always be here for you. Now, let's go play," he instructed, dragging her back down the sand. Together, the two explored the seaside looking for the prettiest seashells they could find, gifts to bring to their father. They made up stories about the people they passed, giggling so hard they could barely stand; and had a competition to see who could annoy the nurse first, which Djaq proudly proclaimed he won when the nurse got so aggravated about his constant stealing of her hijab, that she swatted his backside.

But all good days must come to an end, even for children (who are blessed with the ability to be unaware of the passing of time). The day had been a long but pleasant one, and Saffiya was ready for her bed. She stifled another yawn and leaned slightly against her brother as he threw an arm around her shoulder to prop her up for the last bit of the journey home. In step, they entered the compound and said their goodnights to the guard, making sure he would see to it that their father would receive their presents to him before he went to sleep himself. With a quiet reassurance the guard bowed to the two who brought such laughter to the estate, and went off t o complete his assigned task. The nurse followed the children to their suite of rooms and a forgiving smile for the terror that was Djaq, she tucked in her charges. First Saffiya, who received a gentle kiss to her forehead and then across the room to her brother, who asked for a song. As the nurse obliged with a soft lullaby, the twins settled in for the night; bodies turned towards each other as always. _If only all days could be like this_, was the last thought in both of their heads as sleep overtook them.


	2. Days of Swords

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood, etc.

A/N: Well, here is the next chapter. I'll admit, it was much easier to get out than the first. It's shorter than I had planned but I saved some of the interactions and realizations for next chapter. I wanted Saffiya to retain some innocence and be somewhat unconcerned of the war. In her eyes, while there is a war going on, any situation having to do with her and her family is hypothetical; basically, they war is somewhat abstract and can't really hurt them.

Thanks for all the lovely reviews, it really did speed up the writing process :D Cheers and enjoy!

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Saffiya followed the sound of metal clashing to find her brother and Abid parrying swords in a friendly competition. She hid in the shadows for a few moments enthralled with the play of the sun off the swords and the dancing movements of the two young men. But her twin, realizing she was there, called her out into the open while he and Abid lowered their weapons, breathing heavily. Saffiya entered the courtyard hesitantly, nervous in her trousers and tight-fitting shirt. Her father had bid her learn swordplay when he received news of the war with the Christians, and she wasn't pleased. She had tried arguing with the aging physician, saying she preferred medicine and that she was unable to harm anyone. He had nodded absently, and then said he would teach her medicine, but only if she also learned the ways of a warrior. He had then walked out of the room, a sure indication that he would hear no further argument.

So here she was, ready for her first lesson, thankful that Bassam had enough courtesy to forbid anyone but those three into the courtyard at that time. Saffiya was unable to stop both the blush at Abid's stare and the angry glare at Djaq's laughter.

"Who would have ever thought, my little sister, a warrior?!" Djaq wheezed out. "Some advice, Saffi, the enemy won't be frightened when you yourself looked so petrified."

Abid sent his own quelling glance at his chuckling friend. "I believe Saffiya will prove you wrong, Djaq. I have yet to find something she is not good in, and she certainly puts more effort into everything than you."

"Then you haven't tried her cooking," Djaq mumbled, partially humbled.

"Not yet," Abid replied softly, sending a meaningful glance to Saffiya, who was mortified at the blush she couldn't hold back.

"So, what do I do?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

Djaq handed her a sword as Abid slid behind her, hands gently guiding hers into various movements. Saffiya was sure her entire face was brighter than the sun as Djaq's smirk grew brighter. He did, however, lose the smirk when he noticed Abid's hands were lingering too long, and Saffiya wasn't pushing him away. The annoyed look on his face was evident as he walked up to them, putting a cautionary hand on Abid's shoulder.

"Here Saffi, let me show you some moves that would benefit you since you have a smaller stature and not as much power as your enemy most likely will."

Abid graciously stepped back and watched as the young man led his sister through some moves, the two side by side, a whirlwind of steel and grace. Soon, Djaq felt his sister had the basics down well enough, and Abid rejoined them, as brother and sister faced off with Abid coaching Saffiya. A strange surge flowed through Saffiya, as she successfully blocked her brother's thrust. She was in control of her fate, held a power that frightened and intoxicated. It was a freedom unlike any she had experienced in her young life. In her mind, gone was the shy girl burdened by thoughts, replaced by a warrior who did not think, but merely acted. Hours she lost herself in this battle of instinct and logic, muscles aching but spirit burning to prove herself to both her brother and Abid.

"I think that's enough for the day," Abid finally called. "You did excellent, Saffiya. A brilliant warrior lies in you."

"Thank you, Abid," Saffiya said, head bowed.

The three did not leave the courtyard immediately, but decided to lounge on the ground under the shade of the sycamore trees. The sun was setting and it was a beautiful evening of laughter and friendship. Abid philosophized, Djaq challenged, and Saffiya just soaked it all in. It was these nights that Saffiya treasured, spending time with the two most important young men in her life. If she had to learn to both fight and heal in order to keep her loved ones safe, then she would, she decided. They were too precious to lose, her brother and her future husband; they would not leave her in this world alone.

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Thanks for reading and supporting. Reviews are appreciated and somewhat craved!


	3. Days of Upheaval

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood that would be Tiger Aspect and the BBC.

A/N: Well, here is the next chapter. Our beloved twins are older and have sadly lost most of their innocence, and we are now at the halfway point of the story. I know it's been awhile, but I sort of lost my Robin Hood muse, and have become slightly unsure of my stories. So here's hoping that I can get back into the groove. Thanks to those who have continued with this story, and I hope you enjoy this part. Reviews are appreciated as always. And now on with the story………………

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"Why?"

"Because I'm needed, Saffiya, you know that. And I thought we had agreed, no more discussing, at least for tonight."

"I would have thought you would be scared, but even now, when you leave in three days, you seem excited about war, about killing people!"

"I am scared, sister. But I can't live my life in fear, so I don't allow it to stay. I have learned all I can and I can bring my skills to help save our people, to avenge the ones we have lost."

"I still can't believe it's been two years," Saffiya said softly, blinking back the tears that threatened to reveal themselves.

Djaq enfolded his sister in his arms, lying his head on top of hers, eyes betraying a sadness that had developed in the past few years. Saffiya sniffled before pulling away, hands shaking only slightly as she straightened her skirt. "He said he always liked me in yellow," she said, trying to conjure up a smile.

"He did love you, Saffi," Djaq told her, taking her hand.

"So why did he run off to war? Why did he leave me behind to go and fight and get himself killed? He was a philosopher at heart, not a warrior!" she cried out, unable to keep herself from spilling the words that entered her thoughts everyday. "We were to have been married three months ago. And now I have no husband, and I might not have a brother!"

"You'll always have a brother," Djaq answered patiently. "My leaving won't stop that. And you know Abid had to go, he believed in the cause, as do I. Now dry your eyes, Saffi, it's time we arrived at dinner. Bassam has put a lot of expense into this party, and it won't be honorable to disappoint the host with misery and reminders of his loss."

"You're right, brother. We shouldn't keep him and father any longer," Saffiya said resolutely, wiping her eyes. "Do I look presentable?"

"You look beautiful," Djaq said, his usual large smile reappearing on his face. "That dress even makes you look somewhat like a woman," he teased. It was a childhood insult that still got a rise out of his sister, and she didn't disappoint as her fist found his ribs. But her smile was almost as large as his at the familiar words, and together the twins walked out of the room towards Djaq's farewell party.

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Saffiya winced as her fingers found a particularly difficult tangle of hair. The evening's festivities were still in full force; but she had begged off, claiming exhaustion to hide from the boasting of the men in the parlor and the melancholy Bassam who was unable hide his grief from her sharp eyes. As her nimble fingers found the last of the ribbons in her hair, Saffiya couldn't hold back the sigh of relief as she saw her bedroom ahead. Maybe Djaq and she could finish their conversation; Saffiya didn't want him leaving without knowing every little thing about him, anything she might have missed in their eighteen years together.

But just as she changed into her sleeping clothes, a horrible yells seemed to close in on her, and she couldn't deny the sound of agonizing screams and the clashing of swords. Saffiya could hear every individual beat of her heart as her mind ran through thousands of possibilities but was unable to focus on any solution. She was still in the same instinctive crouch when her father rushed into the room, eyes wild and more alive than she had seen in years.

"Daughter, you need to change and put on some of Djaq's old clothes," Mahmoud said quickly, sword out and eyes scanning constantly. "Hurry, my child, we don't have much time."

Saffiya nodded and hurried to her brother's old side of the room, grateful everything had been left the same when he had married and moved into a different part of the estate. Hurriedly throwing on some breeches and a shirt and vest, Saffiya listened as her father continued talking.

"You will stay with the servants. You are not to go near the fighting, do you hear me? I know how much you dislike killing, so only if it is for your life…"

"Or to protect that life of another innocent," Saffiya finished, walking up to him.

Her father smiled down at her, his right hand absently rubbing his left arm, "Then go, Saffiya, and be safe. You have been a good daughter and I've been blessed by your love. And if we are separated when this is done, remember, you will not be alone. I, your brother, Bassam, and Abid will always be with you; in your heart."

"I love you, father." Saffiya said, hugging him close as tears once again spilled out of her eyes. She was so wrapped up in the moment she didn't even feel the edge of his blade cut through her hair.

"I know, and I love you, Saffiya. Now you have your sword, right? Good. Hurry to the kitchens, and be strong for the others."

With a nod and one long last look at her father's wan face, Saffiya ran off to the kitchens, keeping to the shadows. As she ran, feet whispering against the floor, she caught sight of Djaq facing two swordsmen in chain mail with white vestments. As she opened her mouth to call out to him, he caught sight of her, mouth quirking into the sad smile he had worn earlier. But that was quickly gone as one of the English soldiers rushed up to attack once more and Djaq had to turn away to face the enemy. Her heart breaking, Saffiya continued her journey to the kitchens, praying to Allah to keep her family safe.


	4. Days of Captivity

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood.

A/N: Almost finished!! This took a long time to write, so sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy. Only one more chapter to go!

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She remembered brief moments, individual knots from the tangle of the past year. The shouting of the English soldiers as they burst into the kitchen, one young man speaking in broken Arabic. She could recall the sight of Bassam, head bleeding, as he was restrained by different soldiers, a look of intense sorrow on his aged face. She could hear the voice of Jai when he hesitatingly told her the news that her father had been found dead in the hallway outside her old room; where age had been the killer rather than any wound. She could smell the tangy iron of blood mixed with steel throughout the estate, as people from both sides stared in the distance, lost; confused in this new world they found themselves in.

She remained mute as the guard shuffled their group outside, pausing to talk to his superior, before loading them into a wagon. The others looked to her for hope, for strength; all she could give them was silence. But then they had crossed the courtyard, and a primal scream was ripped out of her throat at the sight of her twin lying face down, body angled awkwardly. He had been stabbed in the back, the sword still lodged near his spine. Djaq could remember the tiniest detail of that moment, from the positions of the fallen soldiers near him to the play of the sunlight over his dark hair. It had been four months now, and an even greater fear was overtaking her; she could not remember Djaq's smile. She would close her eyes to block out the faces around her and picture him instead, lounging under the fig tree. Had his smile been lopsided? Maybe he had shown too much teeth. She tried so hard to remember until all she knew was the grimace of pain he had worn in death and the feel of salty liquid prickling behind her eyelids.

They were on a boat now with other slaves from her homeland, joined by misery and chains. There was few from Bassam's estate left, the others had either died or been shipped off to other locations. Saffiya was slowly disappearing from the world. And a new world was approaching; their guards often told the slaves of England, of their soon to be home. Kenneth, one of the young guards, got tears in his eyes when he spoke of his mother and fine British ale. The freckled youth was so homesick that it was hard to condemn him for anything and when he became ill, instinct and the need to be useful overrode any hatred of captivity and the only daughter of Mahmoud found herself treating the fever-wrought enemy. Time passed as it had before on the ship, days and night indistinguishable as time seemed to stop entirely. Slowly, Kenneth improved and the two struck up an awkward friendship, haltingly learning each other's language and culture as he talked of friends and battles, while his Saracen healer recited ancient legends and various herbal remedies.

Eventually, the ship docked at its final port and miraculously nearly half of the ship's inhabitants had survived the journey. The slaves were being unceremoniously led to shore where they were promptly divvied into even more groups. Kenneth sought her out as she was placed with five men. He held up his hand to stop the one guard, and gently led her to the side as the tiny traveling cart was filled with the other slaves.

"I guess this is where we part," he said shyly. "Thanks again, mate, for the help on the journey. I just realized that all that time we spent together, and you never told me your name. What will I tell my mother of the man who saved her only son's life?"

"You are welcome," was the halting reply. A few more moments passed as Kenneth awkwardly stared into the Saracen's eyes, waiting for a response. "As for the name, tell your mother it was Djaq who saved you."

"Jack," said the blonde boy before her. "It is a fine, strong name."

"Yes," was softly whispered through the chapped lips, "A name for the strong."

Another guard walked up and motioned to Kenneth that Djaq was to follow him back to her group. With one last shared look, the two turned their backs and walked to their respective places. With head held high, the newly named Djaq stepped into the cart before settling down in an empty spot near a kindly looking man her father's age. She could see the panic and fear still evident in the faces surrounding her, but a newfound calm filled her body. Allah had saved her; had brought her here. Medicine and hope had given her a reason to continue. And she knew that Djaq was still inside her heart, giving her strength to journey through this new life. She was not alone, not really, she realized. With her brother's laugh quietly trickling off her lips, the cart sprang to life and Djaq stared into the trees, her small, serene smile soothing her countrymen. This was how they became to know Djaq, the warrior and healer.


	5. Days in the Forest

A/N: Well, its finally finished. One more story to cross off. I have to admit I struggled with this one, but I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are appreciated, thank you to those who have stuck with this story, sorry it took so long to get this last chapter out!

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The forest seemed to stretch as far as the sand, but there was no freedom here. Trees hovered, blocking out the sun and the newly named Djaq couldn't help but feel like she was in a cage within a cage. The noises were new and startling and Djaq felt like she ten years old again, burrowed underneath the bedcovers listening to her father's stories of ghostly spirits. But here there was no soft bed; no brother's hand to hold; no lessons crouched in bedtime tales from her father. Here she was with equals, fellow countrymen who were experiencing the same firsts alongside her. Here, she was needed.

The day started as any other. The occupants of the cart stretched cramped limbs as best they could and were treated to a few mouthfuls of water and an apple. A few hours were spent in prayer and the occasional recollection of home; of family lost or left behind. But then something peculiar happened. The driver didn't see a large rut in the road and the cart became stuck. The canvas cloth was down; hiding the view but Djaq heard the sound of men and the nervousness that suddenly befell their driver. She flashed back to the night on Bassam's estate, of soldiers and steel, and couldn't help the increased heartbeat or the tremble of her hands. She listened to muffled words as close as she could, wondering if this was how her life was to end. She almost wished for it, rather than the thought of slavery. And then the man next to her coughed and the flap was moved aside and Djaq found herself staring at a serious blue-eyed Englishman with a bow. Another warrior, maybe this would be the one to take her life.

Nothing happened. Instead of inciting violence, the dirty men fed the driver and huddled in small groups, talking amongst themselves. The youngest, a tall serious youth stood close by and Djaq found herself studying both him and the others.

The youth nearest her kept shooting strange looks, unsure of how to act. Djaq couldn't stop staring at his eyes, both solemn and wise. His discomfort made her more sympathetic, she knew that feeling of encountering new people who were beyond her current understanding. Different worlds and backgrounds, but the two of them were one in their naivety of each other's culture. But still, the tenuous not-quite bond was more than likely due to those beautiful green eyes. Their sincerity forcefully reminded her of Abid, and she turned to focus on the other men as those damn eyes met hers once again, resurrecting memories she did not want to deal with.

The next man who caught her attention was a short, non-descript man with a loud voice, preaching to those about him. It was his words that drew her to study him closer, his hands accenting his compassion as he talked about the horrors of slavery. Frown and worry lines were etched deeply onto his face; here was one who took the world on his shoulders, unasked. His eyes moved about constantly, taking in the position of everything within his surroundings, suggesting a warrior who had seen battle. One who still fought his own battles, seeming to prefer words to swords. If that one youth was Abid, this one was her beloved Nurse; a caring protector to those he cares about.

Her eyes then shifted to the blond man the caregiver was talking to. This man was just as animated, and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips when the man smiled. She had to admit he was handsome in his own way, but none more so than when he smiled. That roguish smirk affected her more than she could have imagined, and in that impish look she could see her brother's spirit; his love of adventure and the self-confidence that always paired with trouble. Deep down Djaq knew she understood this man, and had a feeling she would get along well with this scoundrel.

She would have stared at the blond rogue longer, but the sound of a body hitting the forest floor caused her eyes to shift to a giant of a man standing over the driver of the cart. He was like some god of the forest; as strong as the trees around him, as fierce as the beasts she had heard snarling in the night. His wild hair only made him look even more like some vengeful forest spirit. This might be a man that one would have to get to know, but for the moment, she was scared.

The last man she observed of the ragged bunch appeared to be the leader, odd for one so young she thought. He had a wearied look about him, offset by a boyish grin that made him seem more his age. It was a look her father had often worn; the look of leaders who wore wise enough to not want to grow up completely. He was intriguing; a composite of personalities. An Englishman who spoke her tongue, a man who cared about the well-being of her and her fellow countrymen in the cart, a man who garnered respect from those older than him, a man worth knowing.

Looking at these men, this mix of goodness and violence, Djaq was captivated. She was also envious, for these men seemed to have a purpose in life; a reason to survive. And so when the leader of these men asked for countrymen's help, she knew with absolute certainty what her choice was, a decision she would never regret. It might not be days by the sea, but she was a new person and it was time to explore the forest.


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